


As Soon As The Moon Hits

by stingingkettle



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Dark, Both of the twins are still living, Dark Pack, Dark Scott, Darker universe, F/M, Future Fic, Mating Cycles/In Heat, McCall Pack, Opposing Packs, Original Character centric, Other, Peter is no longer institutionalised, Power Dynamics, Still in Beacon Hills though, Wolf Pack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 03:54:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2334311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stingingkettle/pseuds/stingingkettle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a brawl with the wild, destructible Hauer Pack leaves the McCall's shaken and an injured Hauer wolf left behind in the tyre tracks of a speeding vehicle, Scott's morales as True Alpha are tested to the limit. </p><p>Set in a Darker AU of Teen Wolf's Beacon Hills. Darker!McCall pack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Soon As The Moon Hits

**Author's Note:**

> An AU Werewolves are known and control the town. Scott is not quite power-hungry, but his eagerness to protect everyone means he maintains a very tightly-leased rulership. It is common practice for wolves, especially Beta's, to be swapped around and traded through different packs - it is also common for packs to have a 'Pack Bitch'; a wolf to rely on during the full moon and Heat Cycles.
> 
> The wolves in this AU are much more wolfish.

The moon sent a shallow width of blue shadow over the lawn, not quite reaching the line of trees at the end of the property. Scott knew that the Hale House had been home to werewolves for over a hundred years, yet he always felt restless in its walls. His palms itched; there was sweat pooling around his neck; it was a house fit for a leader and his pack, however big it might be, but Scott, even under the guidance of Deaton, still felt the pressure of inexperience and the eagerness to please heavy on his shoulders.

Taking in a deep, slow breath, Scott leant back against the beams of the veranda. The wood did not splinter against his skin; it was sanded down, polished, and smelt of pine.

Last year, Derek had taken it upon himself to rebuild the house brick by brick, beam by beam. He scrubbed away the black stains on the walls and brushed out charcoal and dust, plastered up blown holes and installed glass, pipes, and electrical wires. He rebuilt each tender inch by memory (all of the photos had burned away with the rest of the Hale bones) and every time someone went to help, be it Isaac or Boyd, even Erica, Scott had raised his hand and turned his eyes red. He was a firm Alpha, a necessary one. Better than Peter would be.

Which was what he told himself, at least.

He heard Braeden's heartbeat long before she pressed the back door open. She carried something heavy and solid in her left hand; Scott could tell by the way her weight was shifted on the wooden planks.

"Hey," She said, stepping out of the shadows. The moonlight caught the plastic tint of her scarred skin, the thick lines that ran from her collar to her chin, almost splitting her to the spine. Scott bristled every time he looked at them before remembering - no, those that had harmed her were either long dead or subdued. He thought of the twins, scuttering under his feet, pushing against their nature to serve and please him, despite how much they resented it themselves. There was still that defiant glint in the angry one's eyes - Aiden - but Scott knew, he knew that it would go away in time. He would press it down at the neck and hold it there.

"Hey," He said back.

"Derek said you'd be out here."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Braeden said. She lifted her left hand, the shaft of the rifle she held glistening a patent black. Scott never failed to be gently worried by weapons of the nature that Braeden carried; his human side reared its stunted head and hissed in fear, but the wolf was stronger. The wolf had always been stronger. "Are you worried, Scott?"

Scott cupped his hands around his mouth and breathed hotly into them. He was not cold, never was, any more, but remembered painfully what it was like to feel like that. The action was almost second nature by now, even if it was empty.

He took his hands away. "We've dealt with stray packs before," He said.

"Not a pack as strong as this," Braeden said. She lifted the rifle onto her shoulder, aiming it into the tree line, then lowered it again. "They could really do some damage. We can't afford that."

Scott sighed. "Yeah, well these days we can't afford much at all . We're gonna be fine, Braeden. They're rouges. Deaton says they never stick around for long; this'll pass."

Braeden said nothing for a while. Scott could taste the tension in the air, thick and salty. He licked across his teeth and was unsurprised to see that they had sharpened.

Then, "They found another body."

Scott's hands tightened on the wooden bannister. "Where?"

"In the stretch of woods behind the lacrosse field," Braeden said. "Some kid - a freshman. They tore him apart from the middle, Scott. Right through the middle."

Another pause.

"People are starting to worry," She said. "They're starting to talk. They say you're not Alpha enough to push this pack away, that others will come even if they go. They don't talk about the True Alpha any more. They're starting to forget."

Scott's fingernails turned to claws. The polish on the wood was stripped away, his claws sinking into tender pine flesh. "Then we'll remind them."

 

****

 

Stiles's Jeep came rocketing around the corner, the wheels spinning in the dirt tracks. This deep in the woods there were no roads, only mulch and snapping branches. 

The car pulled to a halt beside the split, dead stump of the nemeton and before the engine had even stilled they piled out from all doors - Braeden in the lead, her rifle cocked and raised at eye level, Derek behind her, claws extended and eyes flashing blue, a blue that made Scott's wolf roar in contempt, with Liam and his hunched shoulders rolling in beside them. The twins roared up close behind on their motorbikes, pulled off their helmets to reveal glaring eyes and fangs. Isaac tailed Kira, who brandished her katana in one hand, while Lydia wielded a crossbow and a sheath of silver-tipped bolts, and Stiles -

Stiles had his bat.

Scott was the last to step out. The year, though short, had aged him and his confidence. He was a wolf now, torn out of his human body through a howling mouth. He was strong, unbeatable, and had a close circle - no, a pack - of loyal friends, more than willing to stomach what Scott couldn't risk loosing his True Alpha status over. With only a flash of red eyes, he had Derek searing throats and Liam, little, angry Liam, gutting stomachs like a grade-A butcher. Scott didn't like killing, didn't approve of it in practice, but mercy was a price they couldn't afford to pay these days. Not after - no, he wouldn't think about it. Not now. He had been merciful for too long, and it had only turned the town on its head. The little voice in his head that was Peter's bite told him that he would have to be stronger, firmer, more fearful than he had been. Let the wolf take over. 

And Scott listened. For the good of his pack, for his family, for his town. For -

No, he wasn't going to tread there. 

"We know you're out here!" Aiden shouted into the clearing. 

Scott raised his clawed hand, deepened his frown. "Aiden. Be quiet. They're wolves - they can hear us." He raised his eyes to the ring of clouded sky, to the bird swirling ahead. It was quiet - deliberately quiet. "And they know what we're here for."

He stepped further into the ring. This place, beside the nemeton, had become a popular place for challenges. So much wolf blood had been shed here that Scott could taste it on his tongue, and it only fuelled his anger. 

"This town, it used to belong to the Hales," Scott said, looking at each tree trunk in turn. "But then the Hales burned-" Derek stiffened, quickly mellowing under Scott's red gaze. "-Then it was Peter's town, but we defeated Peter. Then it was Derek's, and now it is mine. My town. My rules. My people. My pack. By coming here, by killing my people, you are threatening me. And - Lydia, tell me. Do we take kindly to threats?"

Lydia locked and loaded her crossbow. A pink-painted finger pressed on the trigger, and a bolt shot into the nearest tree trunk, burying a good three inches deep. "No, Scott. We do not."

"Thanks, Lydia. Ethan - what happened to the last pack to threaten us?"

"We chased them out and left them to the hunters."

"Good boy," Scott said, smiling as Ethan straightened a little, his brother clenching his jaw so hard it trembled. "Come out and fight. You know the stakes as well as we do. This ends tonight - you're not gonna hurt my town any more."

The tree trunks shifted, the shadows melting into different forms. Werewolves. 

They slunk out, shoulders low, eyes blazing and claws flashing. The full moon was only a few days away - as an Alpha, Scott could already feel its burn, and he was sure the Hauer Alpha felt it just as strong. 

Aiden, always angry, always eager for bloodshed, leapt in first. His claws stuck flesh and tore up. Within a moment it was clear: this was no alpha pack, not like they had faced before - these were inexperienced, instinct-driven werewolves. Bitten by a rouge and bound together by the loose ties of pack, these were no family. They had no morales, no sense of leadership past red eyes and claws. 

They were strong in numbers, weak in spirit. 

It was over quickly; the rogue pack, those that were still alive, bolted. The roar of a car engine and a cloud of spinning dust left them all panting, their senses dizzied and strung high on adrenaline.

Scott looked down at his hands. They were clean, only dirt muddied the cracks of his palms. 

"They all gone?" Braeden asked. 

It was Liam who sniffed the wind, but it was Isaac who noticed it first. There was an offset in the smell, something dark and dewy. Something not unlike blood but somehow worse. 

"Scott," He said.

Their eyes all went to the trees. There were bodies over the floor - they could deal with bodies - entangled in the leaves and hung over, bleeding, on tree roots. Scott knew what the tight air surrounding Derek meant - he'd seen bodies like this before,  _Laura's_ body. Scott's urge to wrap around Derek and remind him what was past and what was present was almost overwhelming. Even after all of these years, however short they might have been, he was still bewildered by his devotion to his pack. 

By the tree, by the furthest, widest tree, were two people. They scurried as Scott approached, but did not get far. One had a wound in his stomach, a gaping wound, messy and bleeding, and the other's, the girl, eye was so swollen Scott doubted that she could even see through it. 

Scott looked at them both and saw potential. 

He turned away, jerking his head to the twins as he passed on the way to the Jeep. "There's chains in the glove pocket. Tie them up and load them into the boot. Make sure that they're quiet - we're driving through the town."

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
